rob's reflections

I’m going to try to tell this story without revealing any information about who is involved, or where I work. I was telling this story to a volunteer this morning, and I found myself welling up with emotion. That signaled that it was probably worth recording and sharing in this space.

At the hospital, one of my co-workers lost their life to gun violence during a domestic abuse. This person was well known, and loved at my hospital. What was worse, was that when the ambulance came to help them, they were taken to my hospital, and passed away in our ER. This had a profound effect on everyone who knew them, and everyone involved. We held several meetings to allow the people who knew them to process and grieve their loss. 

A few weeks later, I was asked to lead a moment of silence for all of our patients who had been victims of gun violence. Our co-worker’s parents were invited to the event. The event was organized by a team at the hospital, and they had resources for staff, special music planned, giveaways; it was a fairly big deal. My only part was to assist in the planning and to say a few words and then observe a moment of silence. 

During the event, every participant was given flowers as they joined the meeting. I started by saying that we were there to honor all victims of gun violence, but especially to honor our beloved co-worker. I pointed out that their parents had joined us and were in the crowd. The crowd was a big circle of hospital workers who were standing in a large circle on the from lawn of our hospital. 

I stopped for a moment of silence, I said a few more words, and then I dismissed the group to go back to work. No one went back to work. They just stood in the circle and continued in silence. We played a special song that was dedicated to our co-worker. Then, people organically started forming a line in front of our co-worker’s parents. One by one, they shared how sorry that they were for the loss of their child, and how much they appreciated working with them. One by one they took the flowers that had been given to them and gave them to our co-worker’s mother and father. By the time that I reached the parents with my flowers, they both had an arm-load of flowers; and tears streaming down their faces. 

What a special moment. It was almost like a funeral, but it wasn’t at church, or even in a religious setting. It was in a secular hospital. This seemed to be healing for those parents and healing for those who knew this co-worker and had worked with them. I was so honored to play even a small part. 

There is kind of a shared trauma that happens among hospital workers. There is a kind of organic instinct to look out for each other, to ask each other how they are holding up, and to give grace. It’s really special to witness. 

God is love.
-rev-rob